Broken
by thebleachchick
Summary: He left me for a reason. All I am now is a broken-hearted mess. Based off 'Why Haven't You Called Me Yet' Angsty-ish Rin. Teeny tiny one-shot.


Broken

A Rin/Len Fanfiction

* * *

How does it feel knowing that you lost the only one that actually cared about you?

Shut up.

How does it feel knowing that he's gone?

Shut. Up.

How does it feel knowing it's your fault?

"SHUT UP!" I threw the pale yellow lamp beside me at the wall with full force, breaking it into several pieces. The curved body was now a broken mass of shattered bits.

Good. Just another thing broken.

I stepped over the small bits, crunching them into what I'm sure became a fine dust. Carefully, I picked up a larger piece of the light, almost white ceramic, my own reflection glaring right back at me. "The epitome of insanity..." I whispered, voice breaking ever so slightly. Shifting my sight, I saw the delicate remains of a light bulb. "I should've left it on. I could've burned down with the house."

I looked back down and stared at my reflection. Clear blue eyes had turned into a blue-gray tint, lids lowered to the point where I seemed practically dull and listless. Bags had begun to form underneath, once rosy cheeks now thin and hollow. Formerly plump, pink lips now dry and thin. My bouncy, blond hair was shoved into a yellow hoodie three sizes too big. I turned my attention to said hoodie, finding myself hugging it and myself in the process. Burying my face in the smooth, soft cloth, I inhaled deeply, attempting to imprint the scent in my mind. "Len..." With the lamp now broken, this yellow hoodie was the last item I have left of him. One final time, I looked over to the broken lamp. "Sorry, lamp," I said in a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

I found my way back to my bed, clutching on to an orange scented pillow with the word 'hope' embroidered onto it.  
I'll never let go of this pillow. It was a gift, after all. A very special one that I intend to hold onto closely.

Lying on my side, I shuffled myself into the fetal position, still clutching tightly on the satin pillow. I closed my eyes.

26 days.

It's felt like a year.

156 hours.

It's felt like 21,310.

9,360 minutes.

It's felt like 41,811.

"It's my fault." I muffled my voice into my pillow, its fringes becoming caught against my chapped lips. I didn't care. "I was too clingy. I was being too annoying. I tried calling him every time I got the chance when he was clearly busy." My voice became quieter, almost lifeless. Non-recognizable. Even to myself. "'Let's go out!' 'Talk to me!' 'You're not sweet anymore!' 'You never take the time to actually talk to me!'" I mimicked my own self in a sickeningly sweet voice, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "Idiot, I was. If I just would've kept quiet. He wouldn't have left if I had just kept quiet. It wasn't his fault he was busy. It's my entire fault." Tears began to stain the silky satin as it left patches of damp cloth. Life and pain had begun to find its way into my voice once again. "All. My. Fault. I can't fix it. It's too late... He's gone, and if I..." My voice gradually escalated in apparent sorrow. "Why... Why... Why am I so...so...stupid..." I broke down into hysterics, words no longer audible but muddled into each other. "If I had just kept my mouth shut! Stayed patient! Did anything but annoy him to the bitter end! He'd still be here! He'd be holding me! Calling me his angel! Claiming to become instantly happy by the thought of me! He'd still be here!" My ranted ended in full-blown sobs, hyperventaling to keep from losing every ounce of air inside me.

* * *

Half an hour passed. My hysteria had died down to broken cries of anguish, hiccupping for air. I gingerly pulled apart from my special pillow, reviewing it from what I can see from the glowing moonlit room. I tilted my head to the side, sighing solemnly. I really hope I didn't ruin it. It was all I really cared for, except for Len. The forbidden name made me wince visibly. Before I could begin to release what little tears I had left, I rolled over to my other side, flipping the pillow over to rest on it more comfortably.

How does it feel knowing you lost the only one who actually cared about you?

"Horrible."

How does it feel knowing that he's gone?

"Miserable."

How does it feel knowing it's your fault?

"...It sucks."

Tired eyes flickered over at the digital clock. 4:36 AM.

I should sleep.

Who am I kidding.

I know I won't.


End file.
